What
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Sequel to "Why", "When", and "Where". Hermione has some surprising news for Severus; surprising for him, not so much for we regular fan fiction readers. But what the hey! Making no money from this... unfortunately.


"What"

Five weeks into the school term was always the busiest for Severus. By then, new students had settled into their classes—except his; nobody ever really settled into their Potions classes outside of Slytherin, to be honest—and practical jokes began from the bolder students. He handed out detentions left, right, and centre, taking up a lot of time that should have been spent in his quarters, with his young wife.

They had been married for two months now. He fell more in love with her every day; in fact, it felt like he fell in love with her all over again each time he saw her.

"Give some of the detentions to Mr. Filch," Hermione pleaded with him when he had finished work that day. She had moved into Hogwarts with him, and was soon going to start an apprenticeship with Professor McGonagall, so that she could take over the position as Transfiguration professor once the headmaster retired, and Minerva took over. After all, being dental nurse for her parents had lost its appeal long ago.

"I've already given him most of them," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"What about Hagrid, then?"

"You would prefer that?"

"Anything to keep you at home; you know that, Severus."

"But he'll take them into the Forbidden Forest," he said, walking up to her, and lowering his voice. "Don't you remember your detention there?"

"Well, with You-Know-Who running around doing You-Know-What, it was more dangerous than it would be now."

"You didn't have that half-brother of Hagrid's 'running around' in the forest!"

"Grawp is harmless," Hermione insisted. "Please. Please stay home tonight. Just tonight, Severus."

"I can't," he replied. "I've already issued three detentions. I can't ask another teacher to take them."

"They'd understand," she said, and she snaked her arms around his middle, holding on tightly when her hands crossed on the other side. "Maybe not from personal experience, but… Say. There was a Quidditch match today."

"Your point being?"

"Madame Pomfrey may need some helpers…"

"Hermione, I will not shirk my duties," he said, detaching her gently. "I'm sorry. But we had our honeymoon before term started, and now we're working. Or at least I am. Tell me again why you can't start your apprenticeship yet?"

Hermione looked at the floor, dejected. "Well, I applied for it later than usual, you see…"

A series of loud knocks came from the door to Severus' office. He sighed, and looked down at his wife apologetically.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, and he kissed the top of her head. When he went to kiss her lips, however, she drew back and turned away.

"Go on," she said, equally quiet, and she went to the fireplace. Severus watched her sit down, before leaving the room.

* * *

When he returned, he saw that Hermione had fallen asleep. It was earlier than usual for her. What disturbed him more, however, were the still-damp tear tracks that made their way down her cheeks. He sighed. The honeymoon period really _was_ over.

Gently, he lifted her up, and carried her through to their bedroom, where he placed her on the top of the covers. He drew them out from under her as carefully as he could, and Summoned her nightgown. Still tender in his movements, he changed her clothes, and kissed her forehead again, before leaving the room.

It seemed as though she had wanted to talk to him about something in particular. But what? What was so important that she wanted him to give up detention duty tonight?

Speaking of detention duty…

* * *

"They're clean enough. Now get out!" he barked at the three young Ravenclaws who had been scrubbing away at cauldrons for two and a half hours now. They scampered from the room quick smart, and he finished the job with a flick of his wand. Locking up for the night, making sure that the wards were secure, he returned to his rooms. _Their_ rooms.

Hermione was up again, waiting for him by the fireplace.

"This looks almost familiar," he remarked, giving her a small smile. But her expression remained neutral, and his heart dropped. Was she leaving him? She was, wasn't she? Let's be honest; being the spouse of a Hogwarts teacher wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There were rounds, detentions, marking… and even if Hermione would one day be joining him in these duties, that was far off. Maybe she had decided against it. Maybe that's why she was putting off the apprenticeship; because she wasn't going to do it, and was severing—how ironic—all connections to the school.

She was leaving him.

All these thoughts crossed through his mind in the two strides it took to get to her armchair. They were both pale as they stared at each other.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?"

"Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"

He was annoyed. He knew, didn't he? He didn't want to hear it. Well, Severus, she thought bitterly, denial isn't just a river in Egypt.

"Maybe it can… yes; it can wait," she said quietly. He sat opposite her, and they both stared at the fire, only occasionally glancing at each other, and never at the same time.

"You fell asleep quickly," he said, trying to make conversation.

"I was tired."

"Indeed."

Silence descended once again. Uncomfortable silence.

"Well, that was a quick detention," she countered, and he nodded.

"I thought it better to… cut it short," he said. She nodded in hasty agreement, and he noticed a tear descending. It dropped off her eyelashes, followed by another, and then more from the other eye. "Hermione? Oh, to hell with it! Just tell me already! I can take it."

"Clearly not!" she shouted, standing up. She strode around to the back of her chair, and angrily brushed away the renegade tears.

"Well why should I take it?" he replied, also jumping to his feet.

"Because it can't be helped!"

"Why can't it?" he asked desperately, stepping forward, only to draw back again when she tensed up. "There are ways of dealing with this…"

"No! There's no way I'm doing that. Nothing you can do or say could possibly induce me to…"

"I'm _begging_ you, Hermione. Please reconsider…"

"No."

"But I don't want…"

"Well, it's not all about what you want, is it, Severus? I wasn't expecting to fall pregnant, but…"

"I don't want you to leave me! Wait. What?"

"What?"

They stared at each other.

"You're _pregnant_? That's it?"

"You thought I was leaving you?"

They shared a nervous laugh, and then sat down again. Severus looked across at his wife, and looked down her body. He smiled, but hid it.

"How…" she began. "How could you possibly think that I'd leave you? Ever?"

"Well, things were going so well, and then things weren't so good, because I couldn't spend all the time I wanted with you," he said from behind his hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you as soon as I found out," she told him. "I didn't know how you'd react, considering you don't like children that much."

"There's a difference between the children of other people, and our… and our _own_ progeny."

"'Progeny'?" she asked, imitating his voice. He finally revealed his smile, which was slowly growing into a grin.

"Tease," he muttered.

"So… are you happy?"

"Of course." He leapt to his feet for the second time in five minutes. "I… we're going to be parents." He pulled her up by her hands, and into his arms. "What a wonderful two-month anniversary present."

"I thought you hated 'trivial anniversaries' like that," she said, teasing him again.

"This is different."

"Just as other people's children are different from our own?"

"Naturally. When… when is it due?"

"July—quite close to Harry's birthday, actually." He grimaced.

"Typical."

"I'm so sorry, Severus."

"It doesn't matter, Hermione. It's partly my fault. Still. I'll be very grown-up about it."

"Good. Now kiss me."

"What a good idea."

**

* * *

**

Second-last instalment! The last is, of course, "Who". Yet to be written, unfortunately; but certainly plotted. Did you like this? Was it too fluffy? Probably; and, again, a tired storyline. But the fact that it's part of the… would it be a 'quintology'? Meh. Five-parter, for wont of a better term. Read and review, please!


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